finding things
the journal of Michael Werneburg
twenty-seven years and one million words
When it comes to finding things, I've always been .. poor. Part of the problem seems to lie in the way that I put things away, of course, but I swear there's a certain blindness that kicks in when I try to find something.
A recent example is the kanji book that we used in my (now nearly complete) Japanese lessons. As it turns out, it was the same workbook that I'd used in a prior class. It covers 100 of the 2000 "introductory kanji" that make up the standard set for doing things like graduating from high school and reading a newspaper.
I tried several times to find that damn book when my latest class started. I mean I dug into things that had been left alone for two years or more, and scoured the bookshelves from top to bottom. I even went into the file folders that I briefly used to try to organize my life, back in 2006 (long before the boy came along and made organization attempts nonsensical). This is the equivalent to looking in the freezer for your keys. I really looked.
Cursing my ineptitude, I eventually gave up (after my third or fourth attempt) and bought another copy of the book. I knew with absolute certainty that I'd find the old one again, but started using the new workbook.
Sure enough, when I was halfway through the new one, I spotted the old one sitting exactly where it was supposed to be. With the other Japanese books. Where I'd looked a dozen times at least.
In all honesty, I suspect that being unable to find things is a Werneburg trait. I don't know how my dad fares on these things (his stuff is always very neat) but my mum relates a tale of how my Oma (grandma) came over to our house fuming with anger at my Opa (grandma, bet you saw that coming) because he was ranting about being unable to find something. In my mum's rendition of the events, my Oma apparently said, "If he blames me for the thing being missing, I will divorce him!"
So I know better than to blame my wife.
Ah well, I'm technically past the midway mark in this life so I suppose it's all rather downhill in this regard. Though learning Japanese and learning to juggle should both help with my mental ... whatsit.
Today while looking for something else entirely, I found some old passport photo extras in a completely unexpected place. This shot dates to 1994 and is one of those portraits that nicely highlights the way my eyes look in different directions due to a severe childhood concussion. Enjoy.
P.S. While placing the above pic on my webserver, I spotted this gem. It was made by a friend in mid 1997, mashing up a photo from the Mars explorer with of me taken at the office. It highlights my attitude towards working for large companies. Three months, perhaps, before I began what has since been a permanent beard.
